#✥ take my advice . . . ✥ ➺ ic

[compacflt]

Rumors from Pearl Harbor.

When Admiral Kazansky first comes to Pearl, he brings with him about half of his previous staff, all exceptionally-hardworking people hand-picked over years—advisors, flag aides, secretaries, ranks all over the board. But his new hires, upon getting acquainted with the old guard, are shocked to discover that his previous staff still hardly knows him at all.

“He keeps to himself, mostly,” Lieutenant Commander Hartford explains over a pint. “I made the mistake of asking him once what he did for fun. You know, like, hobbies and stuff. He blinked at me for a second, and then said, ‘I read.’ That’s it! I read! My advice to you newcomers would be, don’t ask him questions about his personal life, because it tends to be pretty boring.”

“It sounds to me like he’s a walking, talking Wikipedia page,” says Captain Calvert, who worked for the previous two Pacific Fleet Commanders and thinks she knows how to deal with them by now. “We owe it to ourselves to figure him out. It’ll make our lives easier, anyway. So, let’s put our heads together: what do we know about him?”

What they know are his habits, which they’ll come to learn intimately over the next few years, and which are admittedly pretty boring. Admiral Kazansky is one of the first to show up to work in the morning and one of the last to leave in the evening. He often answers e-mails past 2300 hours, but never later than midnight. Jokes never catch him off-guard; he rarely smiles, and when he does, it has an ulterior motive. When he’s not working, he’s scheming and making plans to go back home to San Diego, and his requests for leave are always granted, because he works like a pack mule from home anyway. He signs off every e-mail with “Sincerely,”…

“Is he sincere, though?” asks Chief Warrant Officer Kent halfway through Admiral Kazansky’s first year. (Admiral Kazansky is surely unaware that his staff now spends the second Friday of every month chit-chatting about him over drinks in downtown Honolulu.) “I can’t ever tell. And he lives in Hawaii. San Diego’s nice, I know, but what’s so different about the beaches there that he can’t get here?”

“I genuinely don’t think he’s human,” confesses Commander Stoddard. “People warned me about that when I came here, and I laughed it off, but… he keeps his desk biologically sterile. Not one fingerprint, but I’ve never seen anyone wipe it down. I’ve looked through his drawers. Don’t judge me, I got curious. Everything squared away, like he’s goddamn Einstein or something. Have any of you ever seen him in his civvies?” No one has. “God damn it, where does he shop for groceries? No one’s seen him at a grocery store? Does he even own a pair of jeans? Does he wear his uniform to bed, too?”

“He probably goes grocery shopping on the whole other side of the island to avoid all the enlisted kids,” laughs Captain Calvert. “Come to think of it…you know how he always eats lunch in the office? It’s always a salad. And always the same kind of salad. This guy survives on one cup of coffee and one spinach salad a day. Maybe he really isn’t human.”

They build out their wealth of knowledge and come to learn that Admiral Kazansky is defined by his extremes, by what he always does and what he never does. Admiral Kazansky gets his uniforms dry-cleaned every week, though he never spills anything on them. No one has ever seen Admiral Kazansky stumble over his words while giving a speech, or trip over a sidewalk curb, or push a “pull” door. He is always polite and never friendly. Sometimes he is cold, and sometimes he is cruel in his patience with you when you’ve fucked up, like a cat toying with a hemorrhaging mouse. But he never raises his voice. He is always immaculately put-together, well-groomed, constructed every day like a product on an assembly line. Nothing is ever out of place. Allegedly his umbrella once turned inside-out during a rainstorm; he disdainfully shook it once, as a hunter might pump a loaded shotgun, and it flipped itself right-side-in again. The laws of physics do not seem to apply to him. Nor do the natural embarrassments that come with being human. Admiral Kazansky is never flustered, never harried, and never falls apart.

“I found this old picture of him shaking hands with another pilot on the Internet,” says Chief Warrant Officer Kent in Admiral Kazansky’s second year. “Smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Never seen him smile like that in all my years working with him. And he had frosted tips, too. Like Guy Fieri on a diet and steroids. It was the eighties, sure, but it’s like he knew how to have fun, once upon a time. Wonder what happened to him.”

“I feel lonely for him sometimes,” says Commander Stoddard. “Strict guy like that, no family, no friends, no wife, nothing to live for but the Navy? He’s like a workhorse with blinders on. Nowhere to go but forward. That’s a lonely existence.”

“Not if you’re a robot,” says Lieutenant Commander Hartford. “I swear, sometimes he breathes and it makes me jump, ‘cause I forgot he was alive!” —What else doesn’t Admiral Kazansky do?

That’s when they realize that none of them, not the old guard nor the new, has ever, not once, ever seen or heard Admiral Kazansky sneeze.

And they all finally give up the game and quit arguing and agree that, no, he really isn’t human after all. He must be some cyborg from the future sent to whip the Pacific Fleet into shape, and you can’t ask for too much humanity from someone who’s doing a pretty damn good job of it.

The rumors start soon after that. Jokes that could get them all tossed out of the Navy, but probably won’t. Jokes that accidentally spread like wildfire.

Yes, Admiral Kazansky could be a cyborg, but he also could be a Mormon fundamentalist, or a Scientologist, or a really weird Catholic. Maybe he goes home to San Diego so often because in his spare time he’s really a mule ferrying cocaine across the Mexi-Cali border. That’s what he does for fun. He eats spinach salads because he’s a reincarnation of Popeye the Sailor Man, and he needs all the super-strength he can get to deal with the Navy’s modern-day bullshit.

“I don’t know if that story makes sense,” laughs Captain Calvert on the phone with her husband in Washington, “but it makes more sense than the real Admiral Kazansky does!”

So the rumors get spread around.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Maverick comments, watching Ice make their bed from the relative comfort of the bedroom doorway, “or if I should tell you this, because you might crack down on it, which would be a shame, ‘cause it’s funny. But every time you send a mass e-mail to the Pacific Fleet commissioned officer corps, you become the main topic of conversation between all of us officers for a solid day and a half.”

“Oh?” says Ice with a smile, struggling to fit the last corner of the fitted sheet to the mattress. He sighs, tugs on the strings of his old ratty-ass hooded sweatshirt, and looks at Maverick balefully through his glasses. “Help me out over here, would you? —What are people saying? All good things, I hope.”

“Not really,” Maverick says, stuffing a pillow into a pillowcase as he stares out the window into the San Diego sunshine. “Some pretty crazy shit, actually. Hard as hell for me to keep a straight face. I heard this one—you know, people are saying you eat nothing but salads?”

“Oh,” laughs Ice, hospital-cornering the free sheet. “Yeah, that one’s kind of true. I bring salads in to the office sometimes.”

“You hate salads.”

“I know, it’s torture! Move over.” He bumps Maverick out of the way to tuck in the last corner. “But, I figure, if a man torments himself with spinach-and-arugula salads three times a week, you ought to respect his commitment. It’s all an act. You get to a certain Defense Department paygrade, it all starts being storytelling and stagecraft.”

“Or trickery and deception, depending on how you look at it.”

“Sure. But you could say that about everything. —Besides, I’d rather the Navy discuss my salads than discuss… well, this.” He gestures to Maverick, then down to the bed. They start tugging the comforter over it together. “How much slack you got over there?”

“‘Bout a foot.”

Ice pulls his side down a couple more inches to match, then flips the top up. “Is that it? That’s all people are saying about me?”

Maverick grins and bends down to pick up a pillow. “They’re also saying that you’re the reincarnation of Popeye the Sailor Man. I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam, and all that. Think fast.”

Ice doesn’t think fast, and the pillow hits him square in the face, and he laughs again as he catches it in his arms. “Shit, that’s good,” he says; “I was just about to call Slider, think I’ll tell him that one. That’ll make him laugh. Popeye Iceman.” He tosses the pillow onto the made-up bed and pulls out his cell phone, but—then he frowns, grimaces, mutters “Ah, no,” and turns away to sneeze.

[falseapostle]

✥ @fangedstories asked: ✥

✥ "I often wonder what you would do to me If I embraced what my old HP thought of me...and became a true black-winged demon." ✥

♝~✺~♝

"I don't really see why you would want to do that."

Haruto sat on a park bench, gazing out at the people going back and forth and enjoying their day. He always found some way to watch them, to observe the lives and the mental states of the RG. If the RG wasn't healthy, there was a clear problem with the UG, and as its steward he was responsible for maintenance. Especially since the Composer was often so absent.

"But if you were to do that, and it was your choice, I suppose I wouldn't do anything at all. Just as long as you stayed in your own universe, of course. I'm not going to stick my nose in business that it does not belong in. What your current branch does to you is also not my business. Since it would be your decision, there would be no reason for me to take action either way. Why do ask?"

[meatmensch]

what dean looks like in the good post-canon that lives in our heads: bedazzled hot pink sweats that say "JUICY" on the ass, muscle shirt, busted nike high tops, trashy tattoo of a cartoon angel in a heart on his left shoulder, fanny pack full of snacks and knives and weed and his old flip phone, wedding ring.

[master-k0hga]

| T A K E S H I |

[ Category: The Promised Land ]

| There we go, the old sport himself.... Y'know,,, the guy who runs the organisation to not only get goods sent around the Promised Land and help his family owned business going, but to also keep the peace and all that shit... His family has been best buddies with the Royal family of the Golden Palace after all for generations, so he's in good hands if ever they are swamped with work or are being threatened...!

Takeshi is a pretty stoic kinda guy, takes his work seriously, and definitely takes his relationships of all kinds seriously as well! If anybody goes out of line or breaks his trust, not only will he shut you out; But you'll be exiled, punished and potentially snuffed out... But he's needn't do that since nobody has personally nor professionally stooped that low to him.... Yet

He's a very reliable and trustworthy fellow, and despite how intimidating he looks to many; He's someone who is definitely worthy having in your life.. Hardworking, competent, surprisingly very comforting! He's a saint compared to his family's shady history...!!

.. And he must be a really cool guy, Tammy is dating him and they plan of getting married someday!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

INFO

Name: Takeshi Species: Ice Elf (Origin Kind) General Personality: Serious, independent, hardworking, trustworthy, protective, actually very welcoming, quite stubborn, strong Height: 9ft "2" Relationship Status: In a relationship

Extra Info:

Takeshi took over the Frostclaw Traders organisation after his father's passing when he was 18; The organisation was actually something incredibly different before his grandfather took over and completely re-did everything from the ground to what it was known as previously.. Which used to be a cult of sacrifice, blood, greed and all now frowned upon by the newer generations while what had happened prior was approved of by the acenstors of both the Golden Palace and Frostclaw. Takeshi wishes to keep to what the organisation means nowadays; Trades, peace and a very well fed supply of resources all around the Promised Land

Despite being just a mere Ice Elf, Takeshi and his late family were of a "pure breed" which are actually referred to as "Frost Folk", the Ice Elves themselves just seemed to have "dwindled" ever so slightly and "softened" their physical attributes through the years whilst Takeshi himself remained of his origins. The only vital differences is that their skin appears more pale and could potentially glisten like icicles in the sunlight, their eyes pale with sharp white pupils and fanged teeth like vampires (minus the blood sucking). The Origin diet mainly consists of ice and herbal teas as they cannot process meats or heavy foods; Diet practically being mostly of liquid or things that can melt easily on the tongue

He actually wields two blades, and carries a small dagger that was passed down from his mother on his 10th birthday; He never uses the dagger however keeps is as a good luck charm. The dual blades were passed from his father a week before his father's passing years ago

He's 31 years old and appears to have been that age for the past decade; Unknown to this anomaly, he fears something that the indescribable horrors his ancestors has committed have punished him, cursed to become immortal as he watches his loved ones slip away.. Either that or he has lost track of time, thus losing track of his age, not even Tammy knows how old he potentially could be

Usually he and his partner tends to take turns when it comes to business, Tammy deals with the papers, the contracts and phone calls while Takeshi focuses more on the meetings, the agreements and engagements to keep the organisation going at a steady pace; Although it is joked around by his girlfriend that he cannot sit still in a phone call and listen to the other "unintelligible imbecile" on the other side, and also he needs reading glasses so he doesn't accidentally agree to something he "refuses to acknowledge" or "accept"

He's quite stubborn, even though he cannot deny it, his own parents, although had not outright acted on inherently "evil activities" by the standards of their ancestors, but his father specifically had to agree to certain "distasteful procedures" just to keep the Frostclaw Traders alive up to now; Takeshi personally believes his parents, most specifically his father, were saints when they were alive. A part of him is still a child at heart when he's naive about his family and their actions

Takeshi runs and leads the main branch of the Frostclaw Traders organisation within the Glacier Mountains of the Promised Land, which is also the main hometown for the Ice Elves, however that isn't to say he does not have other branches opened out within the realm itself to make his business efficient. Almost every corner within the Promised Land has Frostclaw services, ranging from stock, resources, even a couple small postal services; He has no doubt hired and even promoted most of his members of his business to run and manage the other branches (with helps of the civilizations within the regions). It is also thanks to King Aurelius that Takeshi is able to expand this business thoroughly to keep the realm in well managed conditions

Although not directly, he did have a bad couple of run ins with a few of Kira's henchmen when they tried to infiltrate the hometown of the Ice Elves to steal some valuables and other "secret documents and treasures" for whatever purposes, though being quite the fighter and his defences are, they scared them off successfully without too much lost

Ice Elves bleed a teal blue, however Takeshi being of the Origin era; his is a luminous blue and (believe it or not) has a gold shimmer.. So if you see a pretty luminous blue "paint" with a gold shinmer, that isn't paint that's Frost Folk blood

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

But uhm.. Yeah, s'pose that's about it for him- The main guy who runs the business, maintaining it while keeping his people happy, comfortable and safe from the threats of the opposing sides. Although not as directly involved or connected with the threat of the Deceit and their goal, the Frostclaw's alliance is with the Golden Palace, so Takeshi and his people are prone to be harassed or threatened.. Not like that'll stop him from continuing on with his family run business and trying to make this strange realm a safe place to live..

Takeshi, obviously like the others, was also a former Yiga OC of mine before I changed them up entirely! And funnily enough in the BotW era where I had them be part of the Yiga clan, Takeshi originally was gonna be like the next leader after Master Kohga retires and lets him take over before I made them all into their own thing.. Takeshi hasn't really changed personality-wise since he's always been a hardworking and independent person, but leading a business along with those close to him makes it very easy to get the job done, even if he is potentially cursed to become an immortal being who's been punished for his ancestors sick and twisted endeavours.. (Or is his fear of living alone is making him succimb to his paranoia)... But uhm.. Yeah!

Believe I only really have a few former Yiga OCs who are in need of re-purposing entirely before I'm actually done with the basics for them, and then after that I'll have to go back to sorting out my Zareans species and other non related OCs..

Still loads to do but oh well-

. Takeshi, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .

[cetoddle]

i'm getting emotional just ignore me tbh

[capfalcon]

so im a cynic and i hate love and marriage so what im about to say is probably offensive and i dont really care:

i hate how the justification for literally anything in a relationship is "well, they seem happy" or "etc, this person seems happy" like motherfucker i have been SO happy while making epic mistakes in my life it is not a good justification for shit relationships

[thatoneskullgrunt]

how do you set boundaries for people venting in your inbox? normally i'm happy to listen and help, but sometimes i just don't have the energy, you know? but i feel bad ignoring people.

(p.s. if you can tell who i am then no you can't)

//also just a heads-up for anyone Else who can tell who this is because it is Very Obvious if you know me, the only source of this is because skully did the boundary thing and i figured it'd be a good question //i am in no way actually being troubled OOC (or even IC) by anyone at present so no need to adjust anything in interactions. pre-emptive anxiety easing done

What i try to do is outright state "hey, not right now" as soon as i can. It's tough sometimes but the more you do it the easier it becomes. The hard part is not letting your guilt consume you- just because it feels mean or wrong to set a boundary because it might hurt the other person, doesnt mean it IS mean or wrong. Setting healthy boundaries is imperative to a healthy relationship, so it's best to rip the bandaid off as soon as you can rather than suppressing your own needs.

Keep in mind that im just some dude and not a mental health professional by any means, but ive been practicing and keeping healthy relationships and building my mental health back up for a while now, so im happy to try and help where i can.

[yolobegone]

Hey Melanie!

I'm one of those people who hopped on board because of your newest stream and I gotta say, I am sooooo impressed. You wouldn't happen to have any tips for an aspiring indie horror video maker would you? Totally understand if it's a trade secret or something, y'know, it's just everything I've tried looks so fake and corny and your arg vid looked super realistic so I thought I'd ask!

haha hi ante!! (great username btw def 1 of the best ive ever seen lol)

once again thank u all soo much 4 rhe support on that last video! like i said i wasnt even sure if a lot of the stuff i tried would work lol let alone get as much of a response as it did!!

im afraid i didnt really record a lot of my process (which is probably 4 the best bc let me tell u it was NOT the best idea lol dont b like me kidz)- im a bit messy and all over the place with it n honestly the best advice i can give u is to have an absoloutely super utterly foolproof plan lmaoo

that and to use real equiptment as much as u can!! real saws (W/ THE SAFETY FEATURES STILL ENABLED LOL. DONT SAW OFF UR ARM. THIS HAS BEEN A PSA B4 SOME1 TRIES COPYING ME FR) and real warehouses and the msot method acting u can possibly get (jus close ur eyes and pretend its real lol works every time) helps dfdistract a bunchhhh from the fake blood which is good bc you always ALWAYS need more than u think

thats the rule for injuries!! those bitches bleed mor e than u would EVER imagine. ik. i googled it. also on top if that dont try editing it too much?? its like w films- being able to do all ur sfx physically at the time helps ur acting and how real it looks-- bc trying to edit details in is like the no1 way of makin it look fake as helll. also i use like, windows movie maker. so. they dont even got a fake blood feature.

ohyeah advice no4. dont use windows movie maker. it sucks. also igot like so many viruses trying to download it in the 1st place fml

good luck w it and happy horroring!! id love 2 see how it goes!

[haasegawa]

.

[siixkiing]

“If you get stabbed by a knife, the rule is the knife is now your’s.”

[falseapostle]

✥ @lured-into-wonderland asked: ✥

✥ "Mr. Abe…" - Nunnally suddenly stops drinking her coffee as the snow starts to fall; a beautiful view through the window - "Look! it's the first snow this winter! Just before Christmas…Let's go!" - she stands up taking his hand with the gentle urge to take him outside - "Let's see if we can catch the falling snow on our hands…or tongues…" - she giggles as she walks out. Without a coat. Without a scarf. Without anything. ✥

♝~✺~♝

Haruto tightened his grip on the hand Nunnally had taken him by, but just as she reached the threshold he pulled her back, spinning her as in a dance and pulling her closer to him, "Not like that you're not. Darling, come now. You need to dress properly for the weather. You might not be an ordinary human, but I'm willing to bet the ice and snow is just as unpleasant without a coat, am I right? We'll go out once you're bundled up."

[fruityinnit]

@lemontart asked: ❛ why the hell are you out here by yourself? ❜ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tangerine had not asked for the necklace back.

he had not thought to change clothes, or wash away the blood. he had not done terribly more than pick the glass from his knuckles. and he had not bothered to argue— had not bothered with half a word to lemon, as they trudged back to their rented room, stinking of burnt metal and antiseptic. it was all fine, 'course it was. he ought to be fucking grateful.

❝ fuck off! ❞

the swift kick he delivers to the vending machine satisfies, somewhat. after the monumental shitshow this job turned out to be — it's the fucking fish crackers, of course — stuck in the vending machine spring. tangerine worries at the cig stub burning his fingers, pacing the sidewalk in front of the motel. the taste is cheap, acrid, stale — stuck to his teeth with the blood.

❛ why the hell are you out here by yourself? ❜ comes lemon's voice, almost too quiet to hear— against the ringing. all the fucking ringing— the shoddy stitching in his neck itches, the inside of his head burns, rings, fumes. but the machine? well, the machine chirps a perky little jingle, doesn’t it?

it should be easier, the shutting it all off— it should be easier, to look without seeing the tangle of bodies piled in the bathroom—

❝ … machine pilfered my fucking biscuits, ❞ tangerine sniffs, swipes at the dry blood under his nose; ❝ — pissed away my last ten-thousand yen, thanks to the dickhead in the paddington hat. cosmic fuckin' laugh, that is. 'f i see him again, lemon, i'm ripping out his fucking teeth. ❞ hope he thoroughly enjoyed his fucking fizzy water. christsake, when any of it, the briefcase, keeping all their fingers and arms, anything, mattered.

tangerine hunches over with a scowl; ❝ i’m meditatin’, if you must know. you're interrupting my quiet fuckin' contemplation. ❞ nothing quiet to it; his eyes sting, he feels like punctured paper, like something flimsy and utterly fallible.

❝ — that shrink you set me up with. miss brenda, innit? ❞ — belinda, or bernadette, or bridget? surely. ❝ —fuck’s sake, what’s the nice lady's name, lemon? ❞ he motions vaguely, like the thought is coming to him. bang, the abused machine shakes on its hinges again. ❝ — she said i ought to practice some 'mindful thinking' in this kind of situation. i don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to help. ❞ 

he turns to lemon, and tangerine suddenly thinks, if he stops talking, he might be sick. he might find himself in that traincar again. ( the blood on his hands, it wasn't lemon's. lemon doesn't bleed. ) he ought to be grateful. he ought to be fucking grateful, but—

just like that. worse than bolivia. worse than fucking anything. like having his guts strewn out for everyone to see. just where was he meant to put all of it? was he meant to box it up, tie it in a pretty bow? there would be another god awful job to do tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. fine, it was all fucking fine. nothing else fucking mattered, and it was all absolutely fine.

tangerine sniffs, then barks a sort of bizarre, hysterical laugh; ❝ what the fuck, ❞ he echoes, ❝ —is mindful, ❞ heel slams the machine again, sends it tipping off-balance momentarily. ❝ fucking, ❞  bang! ❝ —thinking! fuck! ❞ crack. the glass splinters against his bare fist, the neon light flickers, and the sound distorts for but a moment. fingers, bloodied anew come up to curl and dig at his skull.

finally, tangerine goes quiet, loses sight of it, maybe. the rage, the white-hot touch of grief. ❝ … did you even fucking think — what the fuck was i meant to do without you? ❞

[pommepommepomme]

[skin-slave]

Me: *feels judged*

Them: Are you judging me?

[fowlofprey]

I did run into Myles while I was downstairs, though, who asked me what I was still doing awake, as if he were the adult elder brother and I were the young teenager who ought to be in bed on a school night.

[ignitionxbomb]

exhaustion … sentence starters (accepting) || @nuravity asked:

“I’m so tired I can’t do anything, but I’m not tired enough to sleep …”

Katsuki had flipping through a book about historical weaponry; mostly for new names for his hero moves, when he suddenly heard Uraraka's comment.

"Have ya tried makin' some herbal tea, Cheeks."